


Devil's Wood

by Lynn_StarDragon



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Dreamscape/Dreamspace, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Golden Age, Headcanon, Humor, Implied Relationships, Implied Slash, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynn_StarDragon/pseuds/Lynn_StarDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch is down but is he out? Now that Jack's a Guardian things should be getting better not worse! Things are going wrong for each and every one of the Guardians of Childhood and these aren't the kinds of things any one of them can just handle on their own.</p><p>Bunnymund is fully aware of all these things but having that knowledge still doesn't help him when he has to go investigate the disappearance of a few mini-teeth, all on his own.</p><p>Now he's trapped inside a living labyrinth with no easy way out, cut off from any help, but he is certainly not alone...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Devil's Wood

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my lovely Vihtalaini without whom my fictions would be unreadable.

 

'Maybe going it alone was a mistake.' Bunnymund thought for the umpteenth time since entering the unnatural woods. And he knew they had to be unnatural as he was an expert in navigating the mundane forests and jungles of the world. He was an intergalactic botanist for MiM's sake! But this was a realm outside the human world, cleverly disguised at that or he never would have stumbled so carelessly inside.

It also didn't help that these woods were not where Toothiana's mini-selves reported them to be. Or maybe it was just the entrance that had moved. It would explain how some of her fairies had gotten lost in the starless, moonless, lightless forest. Turning around and hopping back the way he had come from proved fruitless, as all the trees were the same blackened gnarled bark and bare branches. Unless his internal compass was off, he should have been running through rich green trees and fields and rural countryside by now. Instead he must have bounded between the same scrub and underbrush countless times in an endless dirt-trail loop.

There was also the telltale itch of magic crawling over his skin, though he had hoped whatever governed this wood would let his trespass go as the mistake it was. But no, the being in question was more content to hold him here for whatever game it wished to amuse itself with. 

Too bad he only looked like a prey animal.

"Enough of this," the Easter Bunny grumped to himself, "Tooth is just gonna have to find her own little nippers." With a quick double-tap on the ground one of his tunnels opened up under his paws, and he dropped inside. The landing wasn't as easy as usual (probably interference from the forest spirit), and the tunnel was level rather than sloping downwards. Bunny frowned even as he started to run. He wasn't trying to get to a nearby lateral destination, he wanted far and away to a different continent from here! Whatever ruled the dark wood was strong to mess with the power of a Guardian of Childhood.

His thoughts scattered when he felt a back paw catch on something, causing him to stagger and fall. 

With a solid crack Bunny's muzzle came into unrelenting contact with the compacted soil.

"Strewth."

His next coherent thought was that it was far too wet on the ground. Moving, however, seemed like more trouble than it was worth for a few moments. It would probably be for the best to let the disorientation pass first. At least his teeth didn't feel broken, that would have made things awkward at the next meeting. Possibly more so than a broken bone, which he could have passed off as... something. A bone was easier to heal at any rate. He didn't look forward to having to pull out his own choppers to let a new set grow in.

What did a concussion feel like again?

Bunny groaned as he levied himself up with his hand-paws. "This was a mistake, and I regret everything." There weren't even any undocumented plants in the wooded deathtrap.

Brushing himself off the pooka noticed that what had tripped him up was an actual root. From a tree. A tree root, from one of the trees in the forest above him. Which was impossible because his tunnels cut through dimensions, and a few other things, thanks to the power from his believers. They didn't work like mundane tunnels... in mundane space.

No wonder Tooth's fairies hadn't come back yet. It wasn't something messing with her magic, the whole realm was stacked against them.

"This is the last thing we need." He checked over his haunches for tender spots and tested his hind-paws to make sure he could still put weight on them, ranting to himself all the while. "First Jack Frost becomes a Guardian, then toys go missing from North's shop. Now Sandy's giving out strange dreams he can't control, Tooth's fairies are lost in this cursed wood and I'm stupid enough to try finding them alone. What's next? Frostbite gets a new hole in his head? The Nightmares spit Pitch back out of his pit?" Actually, both were equally unappealing. He'd still rather face Pitch again than have the teen spirit become permanently **more** reckless for eternity.

(To be fair this had all started with sightings of errant Nightmares, well after Jack had accepted Guardianship, something they were all dealing with when they could. North's missing toys and Tooth's missing fairies would have been cause for alarm on their own, but in the wake of the Boogeyman's attack on them they were taking no chances. Why invite other unwholesome spirits to attack them? Why take the chance Pitch had already miraculously recovered? Jack had been quick to offer North his help in tracking down the toys, which surprised no one. Tooth had offered to help Sandy chase down his wayward dreams, using her mini-selves to try and corral them. This had left Bunnymund on his own to attempt finding the lost fairies... though, strictly speaking, he was just supposed to find the forest they were lost in and then go regroup with the others.

If only Lady Luck had been so kind.) 

The fur on the back of his neck began to prickle, causing him to stop short and take note of his surroundings. Distant, but insistent, tugging on the edge of his awareness was the sense of danger further along the tunnel the way he was going. Not safe. How was his own tunnel not safe!? The distant feeling turned into a vibration under his paws and a low echoing rumble in his ears.

"Mother of stars," he turned and fled back the way he came, up to the surface. He was back inside the dark forest. The rumble grew to a deafening crush behind him, followed by a lingering stillness and uneasy silence. When Bunny looked back he could see that the tunnel had somehow collapsed in on itself, without him closing or dismissing it.

What kind of madness was this? What kind of forest was this?

"Nothing for it now, but to explore." He could have done without the tunnel collapse though. It was unnervingly quiet now...

Making the best of a bad situation, Bunnymund used his collapsed tunnel as a combination landmark-starting-point and began to bound away in the opposite direction from it (avoiding the familiar path he'd circled before). He had to squeeze through the dense underbrush, some of which caught on his fur, but he was defiantly in a new place now. Same species of trees and plants but not the exact same ones he'd been staring at. Unfortunately there were no other major changes in the scenery. That might have been too much to hope for, but he could dream.

Couldn't he?

With a frown he brushed the unpleasant thought aside. "No need to call the devil out." He'd cross that bridge when it came time, maybe even sock him one for last Easter and all the trouble he caused.

A cool breeze raked through his fur, reminding him that the night was wearing on and time was likely not on his side. "Now would be a beaudy of a time for a notion on where to go." He knew what to look for at least, a thought which continued to carry his paws over the chilled rocky earth. It was almost alien how little grass grew inside these woods, with less in the way of fallen leaves to explain where it might have all been hiding. Had these trees ever bore leaves? The plants looked dried out and withered.

"A tinderbox planted in damp soil... Nah, nothing suspicious there." He bit out, ears flattening to his head. Too many spirits for his recollection lived like this, most of whom were unfriendly. And if the one ruling here had a taste for fairy meat...

"Getting ahead of myself there." He was a bringer of hope, and here he was being pessimistic! (Realistic, part of him chimed.) Just because he didn't see any signs of other beings here didn't mean there were none. It was quiet now, but there had been sounds of life before. And aside from the dryness of the plants, everything still smelled right, no real trace of decay outside of the usual funguses.

The ground grew steadily more uneven and rocky as he pressed onward. No new lights manifested, and the trees became more and more tightly packed. He had nothing to light his way with, and everything was still quiet. By now some of the local wildlife should have started up again. Unless there really was nothing in here but himself and his captor.... But that would mean the sounds from before weren't real.

Bunny slowed to a stop at the idea. Something like that would make getting out of here more difficult, not to mention finding the missing fairies. And they still needed to know what was doing this, who else was capable of interfering with them. If their power was localized to these woods--

A peal of high-pitched laughter rent the air, causing the pooka to jerk upright. It sounded like it was coming from every direction, behind every tree. Just as suddenly as it had started it stopped, like the quick lived reaction to a bad joke. A joke Bunny didn't really want to be the punch-line of.

"I take it back, better to fight the devil I know." This place had the Boogeyman's name written all over it. Thankfully he didn't have this kind of power or magic... anymore. "Don't go heaping more troubles on yourself, Aster." He started off again, heading into what he felt would be deeper into the forest. Leaving hadn't worked, but maybe trying to confront the beast in the middle of the maze would yield results.

After a few minutes he was regretting his choice. Somehow the trees had grown darker, more clustered and twisted. There were places where he couldn't squeeze between them, but pathways still sprawled out where there was brush. Maybe thinking of this area like a maze wasn't too far off the mark. There were always ways around constructs, however, he just had to find the clues to get himself out (preferably with Tooth's fairies).

There came a foul wind carrying a much sinister and deeper laugh than before. This laughter was like the rustling of dead leaves on the Autumn wind. If he hadn't been on alert, or familiar with elemental speech, Bunny would have written the sound off as something innocuous. Unlike the other laugh it lingered well after the source of the sound had (probably) gone quiet.

"If ya can't go down," Bunny steeled his nerves, "might as well try up." Maybe having a height advantage would give him a new perspective on things. The trees did have a sturdiness about them, being more or less on top of each other. Surely a group of them could easily support his weight, and he was an old hand at branch running. (And humans thought they had invented Parkour.) 

With a running start, followed by a mighty leap, the pooka launched himself onto the thick trunk of one of the nearby trees. His claws dug deep, and carved jagged grooves into the bark. (Bunny tried not to think about how the pressing silence seemed to mute and swallow the sounds he made.) The gnarled surface scratched at his paw-pads as he maneuvered over to a branch, which swayed from his added weight. Not that he stayed long enough for that to be an issue. From his current height it was clear that all roads looked the same, with no edge of the forest in sight. One direction seemed as good as any other.

"Holy dooley..." Wasn't this a fine mess he was in?

He reached deep and felt again for the way that should have been deeper into the forest. Once Bunny was sure of said way he started off, bouncing from tree to tree with the same ease he'd scaled rooftops last Easter. Other than the boughs having a little more give than he would have liked, moving was like a walk in a park. He flipped and twisted, bounded and scaled, dropped low only to climb higher again as he rocketed from branch to branch. Thoughts of how unnaturally still the woods remained were pushed to the back of his thoughts, along with how damp and humid the air felt on his fur. Below him the forest floor zipped by, still wet earth and gradually fewer rocks, with signs of some moss and grass. The trees continued to cluster and twist in on each other, making for claustrophobic pathways in the air with their now interlocking limbs.

Or, rather, mostly interlocking.

The limb had seemed sturdy enough, but when the pooka had put his weight on it the branch sank down rapidly. "Oh no."  Bunny tried to leap off, but all he managed to accomplish was snapping the bough under him. 

"Crikey!"

Later, if he ever retold this story, he would deny just how much he screamed and wildly flailed as he fell. Thankfully he didn't land on hard ground. Sadly this was because he did land in water, murky swampy water at that. He broke the surface of the impromptu pond with a heaving gasp, shook his sopping fur out of his eyes, and swam for the nearest cluster of roots to haul himself back onto land. Patches of the ground were spongy and soft but still looked solid, if far less rocky than before. When had the place converted to a wetland? With his nose clogged with water all he could smell was stagnation and he really needed to get back on terra firma. His paws slipped on the bark, claws scrabbled over the wood to find purchase. Going back into the water was not an option he wanted to entertain, but it seemed to be the only one available.

"Tooth, you will owe me so much after this... If I ever find a way out." Bunny frowned at his own thoughts, so very unlike him they were almost alien, and shook his head free of doubt. "She'll be all right." He was the Guardian of Hope, wasn't he? It wouldn't do to let this place get to him and turn his own mind against itself. "Wouldn't mind a spot of help though... Or a proper light." Hard to say it, but that was the truth (and he ignored the gentle laugh on the wind his lamentations had spurred). With that admission on his lips, the ages old spirit eased himself from the interlaced roots back into the frigid water and swam towards what he thought was the shore.

It was slow going though the thick water and lack of light. With nothing but his senses to go on, and some of those senses compromised, he didn't expect it to be an easy swim. He could make out the shape of more roots and taller grasses, which he used as markers to head for. Bunny was so focused on what might have been land, and ignoring the (feminine?) giggle on the wind, he almost missed the sudden appearance of... company.

There was movement at the corner of his eye. He turned, on instinct, to find a speck of white-ish light dancing over the water's surface. "Will-o-wisps?" They would mean trouble for him, unless they were in a rare generous mood. Better to stay away from them and continue swimming on his own. He turned away and swam on for a few more strokes before their movement caught his eye again. The light was closer now, more or less drifting to him. That still didn't mean the other spirit was going to be helpful. But he continued to watch the glow approach as he floated forward, wind sighing lightly as if exasperated. After a few moments the color changed from white-ish to silver, and the shape resolved itself into a magnificent butterfly.

'Well, that puts a new twist on things.' The Easter spirit mused to himself. He was slightly more inclined to wait for the light, having heard no stories about silver butterflies tied to malignant beings. As he looked on Bunny began to feel a sort of familiarity with the fluttering apparition, if that's what it truly was. When it at last landed on his nose, the pooka couldn't help but blink in surprise.

"Silver... _sand?!_ " His exclamation was greeted with more feminine giggles from the wind and the butterfly itself (herself?). Bunny groaned. "This is your world, isn't it?"

The butterfly flapped her (defiantly 'her') wings once.

"I'll take that as yes." Another flap and the sense of comfort Sandy's dream-sand tended to instill in others washed over him. "Lead on then."

The butterfly hesitated for a half beat, while the giggles on the wind quieted, before launching off Bunny's nose. He tracked it with his eyes for a moment or two before going to follow himself. The butterfly lead him a ways away from where he had been swimming towards more roots, and something which looked suspiciously like kelp. He didn't want to think about what it would have been like to get tangled in that. Though the going was still slow to start it gradually grew easier as the water thinned out and became clear. The glow of the silver butterfly reflected on the surface of the water like starlight on a rippling obsidian mirror.

When his paws touched solid earth he was startled. He'd been paying attention only to his floating source of light and hadn't really marked the rising up of an embankment. But here it was, packed wet ground for him to climb onto. Bunny heaved himself up and out of the water. It might have been muddy, but it was land and he could start to dry off. He took a few moments to collect himself, rested his tired limbs and caught his breath. The butterfly landed on a nearby tree trunk and waited. There was no air of urgency around it, but rather a sense of infinite patience as if she could wait forever... or perhaps had waited forever before.

Interesting, but for now not something to ponder long on. There was no water in his lungs though his fur was utterly sodden, so Bunny rolled onto his back before sitting himself up. From there he began to comb the muck off him with his claws. It was grimy, not like normal mud (what did he expect in a spirit's realm?), and left an oily feel behind. Bunny got as much of it off him as he could before standing again. At least the scratches from before weren't deep enough for him to be concerned, but he'd still take some preventative measures against sickness once he was home.

"Right then," he looked up to his glowing guide, "as you will."

No sooner stated than the butterfly took flight again. Bunny followed as she went twisting through paths, avoiding others and generally leading him in what he vaguely thought was deeper into the forest. The trees continued to press in around them, and the undergrowth went from wilting leaves to nasty brambles. Bunny grimaced when he noticed that the roots of the trees had started to poke up out of the ground to trip the unwary, which he realized he only saw because of the light provided for him. It sent a chill up his spine which had nothing to do with the prevailing cold. In a place like this the plants themselves could have been alive... and hungry.

The wind hummed, as if it acknowledged the idea. Just what he didn't want to think about, the myriad of ways he could have come to an unpleasant end in these woods. If the spirit ruling here didn't get him the topography could. And, he realized bitterly, none of the other Guardians would have any way of knowing how dangerous this place was nor that they needed to stay away. They still wouldn't if he didn't manage to find a way out of here, if there even was a way out of here, something he was starting to doubt with the way the paths seemed to double-back on each other.

Suddenly the glowing butterfly was fluttering right before his eyes in an agitated manner. The cruel laugh of before was on the wind, still low and sinister sounding, but it was at odds with the feelings the butterfly invoked. The longer he looked at the glowing sand creature the more Bunny became aware of himself and the despair which had crept over him. He had come to a stop, and the butterfly must have gone on without him, leaving him outside of her light and the comfort she brought. If she hadn't come back he would have been stranded there for eternity, lost under the weight of his own thoughts.

Bunny shivered. "This place is a bit round the bend. I don't suppose there are more of ya to lend a wing?"

For a moment the apparition seemed to consider the idea. The sinister laugh faded and the silver spirit landed on Bunny's shoulder. He had a feeling that meant he was supposed to wait where they were. All was quiet and still, but with the presence of the butterfly by his side it didn't feel as... desolate as it had. He was even feeling a bit hopeful again. His guide was made out of silver sand, sand which felt much like Sandy's sand, and the world around him behaved like a dark dream (his mind slid away from the other word for bad dreams, and resolutely did not connect the dots with the cruel masculine laugh). If there was even a bit of Sandy in the creature on his shoulder, no matter how it had been changed or twisted, he knew it would inevitably end up as a benevolent being.

From off in the distance the Easter Bunny was able to make out a faint glow. There was more than one this time, though they seemed to come from the same direction. There was a pair of them, though one seemed to flicker in and out, as if it was flying behind something. Or through tree branches. Gradually they drew closer to him, close enough that he could make out more than just the color of silver. It was quick and little and then something small was zooming at him, guided by the glow on his shoulder. Bunny braced himself for impact. Instead there was a soft thud against his (not as sopping as before) chest, and he looked down to see what had connected with him.

There was a flash of green and iridescent purple, a hint of blue and gold and, "You're one of Tooth's--" Bunny cut himself off. What Jack had done was an accident. He didn't know the power of names. The fairy in his ruff had two purple eyes and was still very much a part of the Tooth Fairy herself. "You're one of Tooth's," he repeated softly.

The fairy chirped up at him, happy despite all of her ruffled feathers. She only looked a little harried and worse for the ware.

"Are there more of you here?" The mini-tooth nodded enthusiastically. "These butterflies, can we trust them?" Another nod. "Good. Good." He had already decided to trust them, but it was nice to have confirmation of his faith. Bunny looked up as he settled the tiny fairy on his other shoulder. The new pair of butterflies circled his head, bringing up some unwanted memories at the eerie parallel.

But maybe he was reading too much into it? Had to be reading too much into it.

"So, where to now?"

The butterfly on his shoulder fluttered upward with her sisters and the three of them continued to circle Bunny in an ever widening ring. Once they were spaced out in a protective parameter, one that would let the pooka lope along comfortably in their light, the silver butterflies began to move on. This time there was a pronounced lack of despair and doubt.

The mini-tooth began to hum, which drew Bunny's attention. "Ya all right there?" An affirmative chirp answered him. "Beaudy. Ya know, some of you have been missing for a few days. Has it felt that long?" The fairy shook her head no. "Strewth, time would pass differently inside of here." The wind seemed to sigh in agreement, and... sorrow? That was mildly disconcerting. He'd probably find out all too soon anyway.

They continued on, within the glow cast by the butterflies. The path curved one way, then another, and wound deeper through mounting darkness. At the edges of the light the path seemed to fall away into nothingness, which it just might have done in this realm. The dankness of the world was replaced by humidity, like the warm and stagnant breath of a great beast. He was warmer now, but his fur still wasn't going to be drying out anytime soon. At least there wasn't a putrid scent in the air. There was, however, a familiar humming.

The mini-tooth perked up at the sound, chirruping happily, before she started to hum herself. Her humming, more like singing, matched the prevailing tune. The sounds joined together in harmony so that, before he even pushed through a final barrier of springy undergrowth, Bunny knew the sight of the other mini-teeth was about to greet him.

Sure enough, once he pushed through the dewy leaves, he came upon a clearing with the other fairies waiting for him... along with the most unbelievable company.

The clearing was ringed by trees, old and ancient by Earth standards and impossibly fantastic, like those in the deepest and wildest of primal DreamTime. If he looked hard enough he would have seen faces in their boughs, knew he would have seen faces throughout the woods if he turned to look back now. Here everything was alight with the silvery glow of a colony of butterflies, sisters of the ones guiding him, numbering as many as the stars (the old stars, from the sky of the Golden Age). It was almost like being out at high noon.

In the center of it all sat a girl, pale like moonshine with skin like the starlight butterflies but not of sand. She wore all white, her head was bowed so that her long dark hair fell before her face. Her dress was of a style long passed, utterly refined and proper and so upper-class it _hurt_ his heart to look at her. Some of the butterflies danced about her head as she sang, lowly, a lullaby. As she sang so did the wind carry her voice around the trees, so did the butterflies carry her song, and the five other mini-teeth sang with her. The one on Bunny's shoulder flew off, now that he was safe in the clearing, to join her sisters in song around the other occupant of the clearing.

Laying supine on the ground, with his head pillowed in the girl's lap as if dreaming, was none other than the Nightmare King. His eyes were closed, his breathing was slow and deep, even if his hands twitched occasionally. He looked gaunt, stretched thiner than when they'd last seen him. His robe was tattered, large swaths of it were missing, the jagged edges didn't fade into his skin like before. Here was the greatest enemy of all living things, brought low and vulnerable before him. Bunny could have avenged all his fallen brothers then and there, he could have struck back for the lost Golden Age and snuffed out the last wickedness from the dawn of time.

'New life, new beginnings,' the words brushed across his mind unbidden and he shook himself out of a stupor. What had... he had just... Bunny shuddered. Those had, again, not been his thoughts. "What was I thinking just now?"

The lullaby ceased.

"Daddy can't help it."

Bunny's heart dropped as he stepped closer. She couldn't--"Daddy?"

"Daddy." The spirit girl... the fallen star-child reiterated. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to take things without asking, but he needed help. He couldn't hear me, but I thought maybe he could dream me with uncle Sandy's help." She giggled, and it was the same one the wind had carried.

Bunny began to hug himself as he shuffled closer, mind a mantra of 'No, no, no, no, no.' "Did it work?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It got him away from the Fearlings, once his Nightmares stopped attacking him and started eating them. But then he was stuck because he was weakened. I tried to help, but he didn't remember me. He was... scared." With a soft sigh she looked up, and the pooka's heart shattered.

'His spitting image,' and Bunnymund had plenty of books left from the Golden Age to find _his_ image in. But even without books he had memories, young pup he'd been at the time the stars were devoured.

Really, who in empire didn't know about the Pitchiners?

"You love him very much, don't you?" Bunny crossed the last of the distance to stand by her side.

She, _Seraphina_ , smiled at him with only a slight trace of bittersweetness. "He's my daddy, even if he broke everything."

"So you know."

"All of it. Mine was the first heart he crushed with fear." Her eyes glittered. "I never left his side after that." She tapped her finger on a locket around her neck. "Daddy had a matching one to keep him safe. I don't know what they did to his, and when he leaves here this fake one will turn back into sand. Would you help him find his?"

Shame washed over him, and the Easter spirit hung his head. "I know where it is. Pulled out of time. North should still have it in his shop all framed up."

Seraphina blew out a breath through her nose, clearly displeased. "Your doing?"

"No. But it was my oversight. If I had noticed he'd grabb--"

"What's done is done. Don't waste energy regretting the past. Work to make the future better." Her tone was airy rather than harsh, but the bluntness of her words still stung (even if she somehow managed to make it _not_ sound personal). "But you asked before if my plans had worked. Daddy keeps twisting his dreams back into Nightmares. He couldn't remember me, so I caught some of the smaller tooth-fairies. Since she works with memories I thought they could help him remember." That sad smile returned to her lips. "Magic here is... different. He remembered me, all the good things... and the bad things."

"When you say 'all things', do you just mean... before?"

Seraphina laughed, a low sardonic thing that would have made her terrifying father proud. "Before, after, 'all of it' is _all of it_. We are stars, living almost as long as Pooka."

"Then right now, is he...?"

"Is he what?"

"Still Pitch? Or... who he used to be?"

The silvery girl shook her head, looking both exasperated and slightly amused. "Your time with the other spirits and among humans is telling. He has always been Kozmotis Pitchiner, even when he had to watch the universe be torn asunder by his own pilfered hands, and stars slid down his stolen gullet. Call him Pitch or Pitchiner, he is equally both." Her eyes hooded. "And therein lies the problem."

Bunny shifted uneasily from foot to foot. Pitch he could condemn easily for what had been done. The spirit had been off his rocker and on the brink of destroying the world just to have his revenge. But the golden general, the greatest hero of forever, even if pride had been his undoing deserved a chance to redeem himself. "So he's stuck in a dream with memories of... everything?"

"Yes."

"I take it he feels guilty for what happened?"

"More than you could imagine." She gently smoothed down some of Pitch's hair.

"Good." Bunny grumped. "His stubbornness caused a lot of pain for everyone." The area around them grew still again, and there was a prickling awareness that he'd done something wrong. When Bunny looked over, Seraphina's lips were pressed into a thin line and she leveled a glare at him with the same burning gold eyes of her father.

"Don't throw around accusations if you don't have all the facts. My father's only crime was putting my safety above his comfort. If you want to blame anyone for the fall of everything, look to the old Tsar and Tsarina. They _insisted_ my father watch the door."

"He could have said no." He breathed out quickly, fighting down the rising panic and was that hereditary? Could she instill terror the way Pitch could with a glance now?

"And been branded a traitor."

"The people would have supported him."

"And started a revolution. No, let me be clear, they knew what they were doing when they 'asked' my father to watch over the prison planet. They sent him to that rock to die, having outlived his usefulness and the last war. He was becoming something, someone, the people would rally around. I was too, and I didn't turn a blind eye to injustice. Send him away and I go from being a political figure to a sad angry little girl who wants her daddy to come home." She shook her head to dismiss the topic, sending her wavy curls cascading over her shoulders again.

Bunny waited and took the time to compose himself as well.

In time, Seraphina spoke again. "You... have no reason to like him. He was a brother to your race as Kozmotis, and decimated your brothers as the Nightmare King. Even he will not excuse himself for that and many other things, he refuses to accept the Fearlings are all to blame. In a way, a small way, he is right. Pitch Black could not exist without Kozmotis Pitchiner's personality as a base. But that was all he was, a base. The Fearlings dug into his mind and turned it inside out. They took pure things and bent them to wicked, darker, intentions. To start the Fearlings were more in control, but after his long sleep it was more of an equal sharing."

Bunny nodded as he looked on Pitch's sleeping form. That did line up with the other seeming to... mellow out over the eons. The Boogeyman was eccentric, and just as likely to be found in Sandy's company as out of it before the whole Guardian thing started. But the Nightmare King was a kind of terror he prayed never returned to the worlds. Looking back it was very clear that they had been dealing with two separate people.

Seraphina chuckled. "There you go again, thinking like a human." Her smile was bright, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Think two different aspects of the same person. Or, if you're more comfortable with human ways, two sides of the same coin."

The pooka shook his head with a begrudging grin of his own, realizing he wasn't going to live this down. Well better to have her teasing him than angry with him. His pride could take a few hits. "So, more or less, that means Kozmotis is trying to reconcile _everything_ he's ever done in his life. And he can't because he's both the infallible hero of everything, and the bloodiest scourge to ever curse the stars."

"In a nutshell, yes."

"He's going round and round his own head." And Bunny knew first hand that never ended well.

"Reliving his memories in dreams. And because this realm is a dream I made for him--"

"It reflects how he feels." Bunny frowned. "He laughed a few times. On the wind."

"So did I. I can't speak for daddy, but I can at least sense the shape of your thoughts."

"Seemed as much." He chuckled. "So, ya said you've been nicking Sandy's sand." Seraphina hummed in acknowledgement. "And the fairies." A nod. "Any toys?"

"Oh, those were the ponies. Daddy felt awful about mostly killing me and they were helping him apologize." She said matter-of-factly. "He's so used to getting me things and people from back when he couldn't be there himself... Old habits die hard. Maybe he'll never grow out of that."

Bunny had a feeling North wouldn't press too hard for those trinkets back. "I'm sure once he sees he didn't completely kill you Pitch'll be overjoyed."

"He doesn't think he's worthy of me."

"Ah." He crouched down to sit by Seraphina, so that they could both look on the sleeping Boogeyman. If she could live outside this realm, if she was more than just silver sand herself, there were many things he would want to talk with her about. They were things he couldn't talk to Sandy or MiM about, and would never approach Pitch about (even if he ever fully went back to being Kozmotis). "Need to fix that, yeah?"

"Yes." She looked Bunny over carefully, then glanced down at the mini-teeth. They had perched on Pitch's arms, and continued to sing, just as the butterflies continued to flutter and light the clearing. "I'll need your help."

"I get that. Wouldn't have been pulled into here otherwise, eh?"

"True." She chuckled. "You won't like what I have to ask."

"Try me." If it meant the possibility of Pitch no longer being a problem, he'd give anything a fair go.

"He has his memories. He needs a future. Right now all he sees is the past, and he can't move beyond that."

Bunny nodded slowly, the pieces of the puzzle falling together. "And the one thing that gets people to brave the future, aside from determination, is... hope."

"As you once said, 'new life, new beginnings.' Or something to that effect."

"Heard that, didya?" He grinned.

"I hear a lot of things." She grinned right back.

"I can do Hope. I guess you want me to seed it into his dream?"

Seraphina sighed and shook her head plaintively. "If it were that simple, I wouldn't worry over how violently you're about to disagree."

Bunny narrowed his eyes. "Wait... wait just a tick... seeding his dreams is plenty effective--"

"If uncle Sandy were doing it. Sandy knows him, knows how to make his mind work against itself to the right end. They have had verbal sparring matches that spanned years. The only reason I know the taste of cakes and most pastries is because of uncle Sandy's definition of a 'healthy breakfast'. You don't know Kozmotis Pitchiner. You don't know my daddy. You know the war hero, the golden general, the legend. You don't know his fears and doubts. You don't know the pitfalls he's made for himself. You just... you can't... unless you go inside his mind."

He was shaking because she had more or less laid it out for him, plain as day, what she wanted. "The Pookan mind meld."

"The Pookan mind meld."

"I haven't even done that with Jack. Haven't done that with the others in a dog's age. And you want me to... I can't let him into their minds."

"Then a localized meld. Just facilitate one between him and me. You can do that?"

"The mini-teeth on him--"

"They can move, or you can redirect your end of the meld to them, since they are part of the fairy queen herself."

"These butterflies--"

"Part of me now. Really, look at how many there are. Do you think I could have taken this much sand from Sandy? These are his memories." Her face darkened. "All the ones I could recover, at least." Seraphina shook her head as if to clear it. "It's the same with daddy and his ponies now, or it will be. They won't just be tainted dream-sand, but true nightmare-sand. All he'll have to do is own that part of himself, and the Nightmares will be his again." She looked back at Bunny quizzically. "Any other objections?"

And the Easter Bunny found he had none. He still didn't want to do this, but his wants were looking pretty low priority right now. "I don't have to tell you how dangerous this will be."

"No, you really don't. And I'm not going to listen if that's all you have to say. Now," she settled back into more of a reclining position, "if you have advice on how to minimize the dangers of this, that's a different matter."

"With what you want, there really is none to give." Bunny started to circle the sleeping spirit. "I'm the last, so we can't even rely on outside help. Just, well, when you get to him hold on tight like letting go means death." One side looked as good as the other, and he hunkered down by Pitch's hip. "I won't bore you with all the ways this could go wrong, or what the worst outcomes might be. The best, however, ends like any other meld with all of us back in the right noggin. Maybe even with a slightly better appreciation for each other."

Seraphina giggled, this time somewhat musically. "I wouldn't mind that in the slightest."

Bunny returned the smile. "Too true." He reached out, but didn't quite touch Pitch. His paws hovered over the other's chest, waiting. "On your word."

The girl (young woman) exhaled deeply, in a way far too reminiscent of Pookan meditation. "With a will." She closed her eyes and pressed her hands to Pitch's temples.

The mini-teeth didn't move, but some butterflies drifted closer. This was probably as good as it was going to get for him, Bunny grimly noted. So he cleared his mind of all unnecessary things, focused on his centre, and let his paws touch over the Nightmare King's heart.

There was a jolt like the world had gone out from under him. It had, in a way, and he wasn't really invited to the show.

In his mind's eye there was an endless field of flowers and sunlight, a veritable ocean of life under the sea of stars. In that field stood Pitch Black with his back facing him... and Seraphina. Bunny couldn't move closer, nor did he want to. It wasn't needed. He was just to observe and maintain the meld, not become part of the reunion.

At the edges of his awareness was the weight of the mini-teeth's consciousness. They sang songs of remembrance and well wishing, but Bunny knew what was really needed. With a breath he seeded all the living flowers with Hope.

And they bloomed.

Things came in flashes then, broken stock images which told a larger story.

Seraphina rushed to her father. Pitch turned, but he was Kozmotis again in face. (There was a stark difference made by the strategic lack of shadows smudged over his silvery skin, and how Seraphina looked even more his daughter now that his core was exposed.)

Kozmotis despaired, fell to his knees before her, clutched at her legs and wept bitterly. Seraphina knelt, seemed to be whispering something, perhaps it was even soothing. They were together on the ground, holding onto each other for dear life, for many long moments. Then Kozmotis tried to pull away as if realizing what he was, had become. His skin darkened, dulled from silver to grey, and he was Pitch Black once more and terrified by the rejection of his own daughter. But Seraphina held him close and wept just as freely as he did and nothing would dislodge her. She grabbed the arm of his robe, seemed to scream at him, and tore the cloth away.

Kozmotis' armor was on underneath.

Pitch looked on in disbelief. Seraphina might have been saying more things, but he could only stare at his armor. She stripped away more and more of his robes, revealing more and more of his past and possible future. Sometimes she was gentle, sometimes not. Sometimes Pitch argued, sometimes he remained dumbstruck. His old swords flickered in and out of existence. So did his old staff and countless other weapons with more or less illustrious histories. All of him was on display here, even if it wasn't all at once.

In the end the last of his Boogeyman vestiges fell away leaving the only the golden armor. It was an ill fit for the dark spirit, and even Bunny didn't have to be close to read the words which passed his lips.

'I can't...'

Whatever he couldn't do, Seraphina refused to take no for an answer. The skies darkened, and she latched onto him, pressed the copy-locket into his hand and forced him to look.

The mini-teeth trilled, calling Bunny's attention to them. The meld was going wrong, they could feel it because he could feel it because they could feel it, etcetera ad nauseam. This must have been what she had meant with Pitch focusing only on the past, the negative, not allowing himself a positive future. Kozmotis couldn't see past what he had become as Pitch to what he had been once capable of as a hero, nor that he could be a hero again. This was the heart of the problem, what Bunny had been dragged here to deal with. He was no dreamweaver like Sandy, but there were a few tricks he had up his sleeve. With the way Kozmotis was resisting help there was a good chance Bunny would have to pull out all of them.

Bunny reached for the flowers, for the memories he held, for the Hope he championed and twisted hard.

A paintbrush was in his paw.

Bunny flicked his wrist, and brought the night sky to ageless armor.

The flowers exploded into a wash of colored sand, blocking out all sight. Pitch (Kozmotis) pulled his daughter close, protecting her like always. When the storm passed the flowers were plain and the field was still vast as an ocean, but nothing compared to the butterfly ocean above their heads.

The stellar gardens, if Bunny recalled correctly, had been a favorite place for the Pitchiners to hide away. Or perhaps it had been Seraphina's and then Kozmotis', something got lost in translation when speaking with Sandy. This was a safe place. Broad daylight had given away to the beauty of the universe and other constellations shining bright. The butterflies, all silver now, danced and fluttered overhead. Kozmotis' golden armor had taken on the black of Pitch's robes, only now there were silver highlights to differentiate the lunar alphabet and other engravings or flourishes or like embellishments of the armor. Likewise the armor was lighter now, made for a leaner body. It was fitting for Pitch, who had summoned up his scythe.

And wasn't that the point?

But Kozmotis was a general through and through. At the edges of the garden some Nightmares already gathered. The horses paced, looking for a way to get closer while somehow avoiding the silver light. It was Seraphina who cleared the way for them, and even called them to their side. Pitch seemed... calmer once he could touch them again, but he only truly relaxed when his beloved little girl could pet the ponies herself and not be harmed.

A sense of peace came to Bunny then. Good. His work was done and he turned his eyes away. He would maintain the meld a little longer, until they were ready to return to the waking world.

(He prayed they would both live on outside of dreams.)

 

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

 

It was a long time before Bunny could open his eyes again. When he did it was to find himself in a warm patch of sunlight and back in a rather normal looking forest. The mini-teeth were perched on him, and only looked slightly ruffled. Gone were the bog, the twisting trees, and the crawling magic pricking at his skin. Gone as well were Pitch and Seraphina with the rest of the dream.

"Ah, you're finally awake now. Good."

Bunny turned to find the source of the voice. A young woman of considerable station stood in the clearing with him. She wore an elaborate white dress of refinement and beauty unseen before on Earth. Her dark hair hung in loose ringlets with a slight wave, and softly framed her angular face. She too was a beauty unseen before on Earth. Her skin was pale but ashen grey, much like the Boogeyman's, and her eyes were a familiar gold. The spirit became more and more translucent down her body until her feet were invisible, if they even still existed. Seraphina's locket hung around her neck having not yet faded.

The Easter spirit looked her over. "Where's Pitch?"

The woman smiled. "Home, the dream is over. Well, nearly over, or I would be home too."

"Wait, Seraphina?" He had thought it was her, "But how?" Was she really alive again, could she really live on outside Pitch's memories?

"Think of me as a lingering dream, the last thoughts before waking to a new day. I'm what's left before you wipe the sleep from your eyes." Her smile was kind and full of cheer.

She looked older now, perhaps as old as she had been the day she died. Something slotted itself into place in Bunny's mind. "Before, you were... the image yer dad held of you."

"Correct." Even her voice had matured in tone. "He hasn't forgotten the past, but he's let go of it. Thank you."

"Don't thank me." Bunny shook his head. "Please just... don't. I acted out of selfishness."

She smiled. "That makes two of us." They laughed at that, for a few moments, before Seraphina turned serious again. "I don't know when you'll see him next."

"It'll be too soon, more like than not."

"Maybe." She looked off to the side at some invisible point of interest. "You'll be seeing uncle Sandy?"

"To be true."

"Let him know I'm sorry for the mess I made. And thank him for his help. Toothiana too, since it was her... selves which helped daddy remember. Oh," she looked up with a bit of pride in her eyes, "and if they see any Nightmares, let them pass. Daddy will deal with the from now on." Her smile grew. "He's going to earn his title."

Bunny shook his head with a wry smile. "I take it he's now the guy MiM made the offer of Guardianship to?"

"Oh he always was," Seraphina started to turn away, "he just forgot." She hesitated one last time before facing Bunny again. "Don't expect him to join you. Maybe he might crash a meeting or three in a few decades, once things are smoothed over." (Somehow he felt those words were directed more at the other Guardians than himself.) "Lastly, because uncle Sandy will question you relentlessly otherwise, Venice Italy. That and the answer to his question is, 'we used a pre-made batter for cupcakes and told daddy they were for him when he found the leftovers'."

Bunny blinked. "Do I want to know?"

Seraphina gave another musical laugh. "Uncle Sandy didn't always teach me the most noble things." With that she turned away and walked off into the forest.

Bunny could feel the last of the magic bleed away as he watched her go, relinquishing its hold on reality as she disappeared into the dark treeline. Now he was just the last Pooka standing in the middle of a random forest with a handful of mini-teeth and nothing else to show for the wild night adventure. He'd keep an eye out for black horses of indeterminate origin, but otherwise he wanted nothing more than to head back to the Warren.

"Better let the others know about this first." He did have responsibilities, after all. "You girls ready to head home?"

The fairies all chittered an affirmative to him.

"Then here we go!" With a quick double-tap Bunny opened a tunnel and dropped down, this time with the fairies in tow, and headed back to Santoff Claussen (with one devil of a story to tell).

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the tumblr crowd, [a post to reblog](http://heartlessdarkness-mun.tumblr.com/post/67708875717/rotg-fanfic-devils-wood-1-2).


	2. Epilog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because we needed some happy to balance the angst. Also, Koz will forever be an overly dramatic drama-king.

 

A Nightmare dashed through the air, her iridescent coat glittering with flecks of starlight. She came upon a house with an open window and slipped inside. In the room was a child protected only by the weak glow of an artificial light. She snorted and struck the floor with her hooves. The child whined in his sleep but the golden dream-sand remained above his head. She lashed out again, this time dislodging a shadow.

The shadow screeched, and skittered towards the nearest dark corner. The mare was upon it in an instant and devoured the Fearling before it could escape her sight. She looked around the room scenting for more disembodied fears to eat.

A bright glow from the open window caught her attention and the mare turned to face the newcomer. The Sandman had poked his head in and a question mark hovered over his head. The mare tossed her head and nickered. Sandy made a second question mark. The mare stomped once with a fore-hoof. Sandy nodded, apparently understanding the message, but then formed another question mark. The Nightmare huffed and tossed her head to the side, indicating the dreaming boy.

Sandy frowned and a large X formed over his head. The mare whinnied and drew closer to the bed. More images started to form over Sandy's head in a rapid-fire argument. The mare was having none of it, and managed to non-verbally hold her own (possibly by shifting the sands of her body to make subtle patterns in her 'coat'). The pair bickered back and forth, each nudging at the dream over the child's head until black and gold sand twisted together to form a wholly unrecognizable dreamscape.

Sandy looked at the mare. The mare looked back at Sandy. Both of them looked at the thing which wasn't quite a dream. In silent agreement they both slunk towards, and then out of, the open window.

Unfortunately Pitchiner Black was waiting for both of them, and he looked less than enthused. He was gripping a lance in his main hand, this time, and sat astride a large war-horse of a Nightmare. His midnight armor reflected the night sky, and he held the reigns of the horse he was riding in his off hand.

"What did you two do?"

Both Sandy and the other mare came to another agreement and played innocent.

"Oh, well, how could I **possibly** question the sincerity of those faces? Don't think I'll go lightly on either of you for Sera's sake." As if summoned by her name a silver butterfly landed on Pitchiner's head with the faintest of giggles. The manifestation opened its wings to reveal gold eyespots, which blinked before looking down at Pitchiner. (The owner of those eyes happened to be safe at home.)

Sandy smirked, and even the mare looked more relieved. _Someone is keeping tabs on 'daddy'._

Pitch, however, pouted. "When hasn't she? Sera can't save you every time, even if she does have eyes everywhere." He began to turn his steed away. "And let them do their duty, Sanderson. Children can't have sweet dreams every night."

The Sandman began to protest, vehemently, about how children could do just that. He went so far as to conjure up a dream-manta to ride alongside the other spirit. Pitchiner only payed him half a mind, already familiar with their centuries old argument. 

Stars above, had it really been centuries since she had healed him?

The more things changed the more they stayed the same. Maybe, in another era or two, he would consider doing more than just occasionally aiding the Guardians. By his daughter's own encouragement he stayed on neutral (or better) terms with them, and they exchanged useful information from time to time.

For now though he was happy to be more himself than he had been for a few human lifetimes. He had his daughter back, and was working on strengthening his relationship with her (and not hissing like an affronted cat any time he thought she was being slandered or otherwise found himself displeased). The panic attacks were almost a thing of the past, and he rarely clung to her and cried 'Baby!' when in public anymore. (It was harder to break this habit in private, and he likely never would, much like he would never totally be free of night-terrors.)

Really, life was about as good as Pitchiner could ask for. The Guardians no longer had it out for him, he was able to keep a healthy amount of fear and caution in the world, and (most important of all) he had his daughter back. To top it all off people believed in him again. It was a bit like having vertigo at first, swinging back into the sight of the masses. Gone was the hero-worship of another life but there was still a touch of awe for those who remembered the title 'Boogeyman'. It was even a secret pleasure of his, one only Seraphina knew about, to go amongst the humans for the month leading up to Halloween.

It had started out with a glimpse here, a glance there, and an offhanded comment from Jack Frost about how much fun haunted house attractions tended to be. Now that he felt more at ease with mortals again, and to help spread belief in himself, it wasn't unusual to find him in the children's section of a library reading aloud to young audiences. (It was very amusing when the parents couldn't see who was entertaining their children. He also liked to think he'd had a hand in preserving the printed word.) Seraphina would usually sit in his lap and they could pretend that they were back home with Kozmotis reading a bedtime story just to her.

It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, however, nor was it was it all rainy days and eldritch horrors. (Well maybe a few eldritch horrors, but that was only if he needed to call out the more powerful weapons in his arsenal.)

Becoming more like his old self had given the Fearlings trapped inside his frame a chance to flee. The ones he had converted by hand were still loyal to him, in the sense that they didn't want to be eaten by his Nightmares. The Guardians dealt with them too, but really he was still the only one capable of stopping them. They at least were competent enough to catch Fearlings, and powerful enough to keep them imprisoned until Pitch could deal with them himself. This usually meant being eaten by a Nightmare and turned into black sand, and from there tracking down the human which had fed the Fearling. With the Nightmare King's guidance the human could face their fears, at least in dreams, rather than ignore the problem. What they did in the light of day was on them, but he would return for as many nights as he had to until the threat of new Fearlings being produced was gone.

All in all it was a pretty busy life.

Sandy's hand was suddenly waving in front of his eyes, calling his attention back to the waking world. "What now?"

A decorated tree and two glasses of eggnog formed in dream-sand over Sandy's head, followed by a question mark.

"Yes, we'll be attending North's Christmas party. I maintain the Yetis don't like me. And 'we' does mean Seraphina also."

Sandy gave a thumbs up before turning the conversation back to more innocuous things. (And a few less innocuous things involving beds and strawberries.)

Yes, a very busy life indeed.

And, in all honesty, he didn't want it any other way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since tumblr has found me, have [a post to reblog](http://heartlessdarkness-mun.tumblr.com/post/67709246907/rotg-fanfic-devils-wood-2-2).


End file.
